The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike

Chapter 74

Right from the start, it had been a game played between the affluent and the less fortunate.

She pondered whether he intended to reveal his true identity to her after her hospital discharge and then declared the end of this game.

However, her composure only heightened Jonathan’s anxiety. Although she stood before him, he felt that they were worlds apart.

“Are you Jonathan?” Her second inquiry was delivered in the same composed manner. It seemed as if she were simply seeking an answer.

His slender lips pressed together tightly, and his profound, affectionate gaze locked onto her clear, doe-like eyes. After a prolonged moment, he finally parted his lips slightly and uttered a soft “yes”

Bitterness welled up within Rosalie. Indeed, this man was undeniably Jonathan. In truth, she had been fairly certain of it, yet, she wasn’t willing to give up and yearned to hear his confirmation.

“Okay, I understand now.” She gently lowered her eyes, squatted down, picked up the phone that fell on the ground, turned around, and wanted to pull open the glass door to leave.

However, in the next instant, her arm was abruptly seized by a hand. At the same time, Jonathan’s other hand forcefully pressed against the glass door, effectively ensnaring her between him and the door.

“What do you understand?” He looked down at her and said.

“I know you are Jonathan, I understand that it’s just a game to you.” Rosalie said calmly, “Mr. Youngblood, don’t worry. I know what to do. If this is your revenge, then I was thinking that over the

past few days, you must have also found that what I should have lost has already slipped away. There’s nothing left worth your revenge, nor to cause me further loss.”

He narrowed his eyes and thought, “Revenge? Did this woman think I was taking revenge for Melanie? Melanie was not deserving of my efforts on her behalf.

However, the greater her composure, the more his irritation mounted. He began to question why he was so apprehensive about her tranquility and fearful that she might depart from his life.

Even he couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed by her or himself.

“As you mentioned, what do you believe you possess that warrants my vengeance?” he retorted icily.

She let out a bitter smile. It was true that she had embellished her position by bringing up revenge. He needn’t humble himself to undertake retribution personally. He could easily delegate the task to someone else, just like what he did in prison.

She believed there would be many people who were willing to give her a hard time to flatter him.

“Mr. Youngblood, could you please make way for me? I… I want to go back to the ward and pack up first,” she said. In that instance, their proximity was so intimate that she could discern his fragrance, making her feel unsettled.

“I never permit you to leave the hospital.” He bent down slightly, his face closer to her face. His deep and captivating eyes locked onto her pale visage. “Moreover, since you referred to me as Jon before, continue using that name now as well.” “Mr. Youngblood, there is no need to continue this game now. I don’t think I have to stay in the hospital anymore.” Jon… This name carried a cruel irony, serving as a reminder of what she once possessed.

She had believed she was gaining a younger brother, yet unbeknownst to her, the person by her side was the one she should have been avoiding most!

“A game?” Jonathan glared at the woman in front of him as he echoed the words in his mind. Although it was indeed a game for him at first, it wasn’t a game afterward.

“If you really think it’s a game, then when the game ends is up to me.” He shut his eyes and tenderly brushed his fingers against her cheeks. Their skin rubbed against each other with delicate friction, conveying a sense of profound intimacy.

Rosalie’s entire body tensed. His breath was warm, yet she experienced an inexplicable chill.

“Am I right, Rosie?” He exhaled softly, continuing to call her by the endearing nickname as he had done previously. His slightly elevated tone appeared to carry a sense of fondness.

But she felt as if heavy mountains were pressing against her chest, causing her to feel suffocated.

Rosalie and Jonathan went back to the ward together. As soon as they entered, Jonathan asked the nurse to leave.

Spon, there were only two of them in the ward.

Rosalie remained rigidly seated in a chair, her head lowered. Uncertainty gripped her as she pondered his intentions. “If he believes that my post-prison life lacks sufficient misery and aims to subject me to further torment, then why did he intervene to rescue me on the night of New Year’s Eve?” she wondered.

He just needed to let things fester, and she would be more miserable.

But Rosalie understood that no matter what he wanted to do to her, she couldn’t resist. After three years in prison, she carried the heavy burden of fate and understood the cruelty of destiny and her own insignificance.

In the eyes of those superiors, she was nothing but an ant that could be easily played with.

“Don’t you have anything else to ask me, Rosie?” The quietness in the room was broken by the man’s elegant voice.

Rosalie’s form quivered slightly. His voice was so mellifluous that within the tranquil night, it resembled a gentle breeze rustling through a cluster of bamboo, exuding a touch of grandeur.

She slowly raised her eyes and was met with a face that was both handsome and aristocratic, characterized by a rosy complexion, a straight nose, and lips that bore a faint smile. His captivating eyes shimmered with allure.

He stood in front of her and looked down at her as if everything of hers was under his control.

Rosalie instinctively bit her lip and unconsciously bit herself too hard, yet she appeared impervious to the pain.

Yet, the man furrowed his brows and extended his hand to gently grasp her chin. In a soft tone, he advised. “Don’t bite your lips. It will hurt you.”

He carried himself with gentleness as if he were still her Jon, not the Jonathan who scared her.

Rosalie looked at Jonathan in a daze, and her teeth involuntarily released their grip on her lips.” Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

His fingertips caressed her lips, leaving a burning sensation on her skin.

She abruptly tilted her head away and leaned back. “Mr. Youngblood, when will this game come to an end?”

His eyes

darkened slightly. “Is that all you want to ask?”

“Is there any other question I can ask? It appears that his words alone define the scope of his vengeance against me and the level of anguish I’ll be subjected to. I’m left with no option but to endure. It was the same three years ago. Does it differ now?” she thought.

She did not say a word.

He took her hands and put them in his palm. “Rosie, your hands are a little cold.” He said while rubbing her hands to make

them warm.